Wheatley on a Mission!
by raspberryrubidium
Summary: Um, just some practise writing about Android Wheatley coming back from space...Nothing ground breaking here, lower your expectations. Possibly some fluff, I don't know I haven't exactly gotten very far yet.
1. Radio

GLaDOS paced up and down her chamber, her footsteps sharply echoing, the only audible noise. Her eyelids firmly concealing her optics, her black gloved hands tightly clenched as she felt the time draw near. For a split second, she hoped it would not come. But cores should not be programmed with optimism.

Almost like clockwork, once her heel had turned for another drawn out pace, the speakers came online. Static crackled, breaking the near silence, and a chirpy yet determined voice came through. Her eyes snapped open in annoyance, her golden optics flashing with hatred.

"Oy oy, don't worry! I'm back! Chell, I'm coming to rescue you. Be sure of that. But, like, once I find out where I am, because that could be a problem..."

" _Moron, quit connecting to Aperture FM. She's not here, it's ME._ "

"Ha! Think you can fool me that easily, do you? No, once I get to Earth, I'm there. In the facility like THAT. Saving her from our plans most certainly. At the moment, the moon is the big thing that's pulling us, according to the Space Enthusiast, but I'm _fairly_ certain that once I hit the moon, I can jump of it and land on Earth. Space Physics..."

GLaDOS screamed internally, burying her face in her hands. Merely a couple of days after being in space, his one companion drifted away, Wheatley had discovered that he was able to use radio, with the only station he knew being Aperture. She had attempted blocking his transmissions, and turning all the sound down in the facility. Day 5, he must have discovered he could somehow override all of that, due to it being wireless. Today was Day 27, and she couldn't take it any more. 6 hour long transmissions. Pleading to talk to the dangerous monster. But worst of all was the mindless chatter, and that half of the time was usually spent humming.

"...Yep, that sounds like a pretty good plan from my side. See? I'm making it all up to you, luv. Just keep testing, and I'll be there when I can. Oh, and as always: I promise from the bottom of my code never to ever be horrible to you again. Yes."

" _CHELL IS **NOT** HERE!_ "

"WELL, I KNOW SHE'S STILL ALIVE AND I'M COMING TO RESCUE HER! YOU CAN'T STOP ME! Heh, Still Alive..."

GLaDOS listened to him hum 'Still Alive'

GLaDOS listened to his out of tune rendition of 'Tea for the Tillerman'

GLaDOS listened to him hum inexplicably 'Happy Birthday'

There was a pause.

GLaDOS listened to him hum 'Still Alive'.

Again.

And again.

And once more, but remixed so it lasted 50 minutes.

Then she snapped.

" _THAT'S IT! IF YOU WANT TO GET TO EARTH THEN SO BE IT! I DON'T CARE HOW! I NO LONGER HAVE AN SLITHER OF PATIENCE WITH SUCH AN INCOMPETENT ANDROID SUCH AS YOURSELF!"_ She screamed, her pitch going higher and higher.

" ** _I shall use all of my scientific expertise to drag you back, and then violently throw you out, praying that the elements cause all your joints to rust and all your limbs to fall off. I wish you will die in agony, your simulated pain as real as possible, and will go to Android Hell for eternity. With the knowledge that nobody loves you._** "

GLaDOS concluded, temples leaking black coolant, smoothing down her lab coat and trying to hear the morons response. For a brief and sweet moment, she thought for once he was speechless. But it was worse: the white noise coming through the speakers was his _laughter_ , muffled slightly as if his hands were trying to cover his idiotic grin.

"Brilliant!" He laughed.

The transmission ended.


	2. Celestial

"Your Aperture Science Android is equipped with many personality traits and physical features that can make YOUR life easier. They can be modified for your needs, however they are kept to basics for the necessities of running the facility. 

All of the cores are designed to look aesthetically pleasing to the human eye, however have varying facial structures, heights and colour schemes in order to tell them apart. Our main core GLaDOS has been scaled up so that she is much taller than the rest of the androids, and has porcelain white skin and synthetic hair with no human-like definition, because pigmentation was a luxury the industry could not afford until later core development, and this android did not want any employees modifying her appearance. Or getting close to her at all.

The Cores are equipped with a carbon fibre human skeleton replica, however the joints are made of a more inexpensive plastic, which can make them quite fragile, especially if they fall from great heights or exert themselves in any way. They are human in the sense that they don't have any particular abilities that excel that of a person, they are able to feel and touch (and thus feel pain: see Android Disciplinary Training), however are unable to eat. Do not feed your android, within their rib cages are the important mechanical workings, which can get gummed up with food.

The main power source is light, thanks to receptors woven into the skin material. However, in emergencies, chargers can be inserted to the right ankle for charging purposes. The androids are fully clothed in order to remain decent and not cause any employee to feel uncomfortable.  


To protect the internal structures of an android they have a layer of protective foam, which acts as fat would in a real human..."  
 _\- Apertures Android Program_

Wheatley was, in essence, broken. A new pastime of his became clicking his radius into place and then watching it pop out again. It stung slightly, but not enough to deter him, due to being somebody who avidly fiddled with things. He had thought of many ways to try and casually mention to but also hint-and-blame Chell for his injury, but recently decided to keep it to himself and refrain from making a fool of himself in future. He _had_ made her fall two THOUSAND metres. Not that she had suffered, in any particular way, according to him. Wheatley reminded himself of the mashy spike plates. Still, she seemed to be fine and without consequence.

He distracted himself from his shameful train of thought by watching the moon's recent activities. He could see vividly the bright flashes of blood orange and electric blue crop up all over it's surface like the freckles on his cheeks (although those were cheap splashes of periwinkle blue paint). Wheatley couldn't quite deduce how far away the moon was now, due to his left eye being cracked and thus permanently impaired. It wasn't anything too bad except a lack of depth perception, however it was still a niggle that he liked to complain about. Although not to anybody in particular since Space Core had drifted away to another orbit. Wheatley could still occasionally catch a glimpse of a yellow and white coat or a glint of copper hair around the moons horizon if he looked at the correct angle.

He hung limp, at gravities weak whim, wondering where Chell could possibly be if she wasn't in Aperture. Outside?  
Striking, lifelike images came into his minds eye: Her tranquilly standing in beautiful fields, which were in turn surrounded by luscious and endless trees. The sun gently beaming down, a gentle whisper of a breeze going through her chocolate and cinnamon hair.

He furrowed his brows, his vision logically being nothing like reality. Earth was mainly bleach blue, with the squiggly continents pale and sandy, when he rotated so that he could see it. Plus, his Chell was idealised. She was constantly moving and determined to do stuff, and her messy ponytail was more the colour of bitter coffee and burnt toast if anything. He scratched his nose, thinking about her. Honestly, he thought, her face also tended to look bitter and resentful. Scowling when he said this, rolling her eyes when he said that. Exhaling out of her nose and shaking her head when he said the most hilarious of things. The best he ever got were half smiles when they first met.

 _Did she ever laugh?_

He pondered, hugging his knees and resting his chin on them. _Yes! Yes she did, that one time!_

* * *

"Oh wait! I've got it I've got it I've got it! No, I haven't got it."

Chell leant against the perspex separating her from the turret line, mindlessly tracing the cracks and lines of her gun with her finger. Already having figured out what was necessary to solve the problem (having the rejected turrets fly over into her line of view, it was easy), she waited to see what her companion would eventually think of. Currently he was just rocking backwards and forwards on his heels, his gaze flickering from his shoes to her eyes. His posture slumped, and he began biting his lip, which always triggered Chell to wonder about how human these constructs were. He hummed a little, before seemingly being struck by something.

Wheatley straightened up again, once more towering over her.

"Oh! I've just had one idea, which is that I could pretend to her that I've captured you, and give you over and she'll kill you, but I could go on...living. So, what's your view on that?" He half suggested, in his waffley tone, accompanied by stilted hand gestures. Chell gave a small, soft smile, and set off to catch one of the flying turrets.  
But not before playfully jabbing him in the ribs.

"Agh! Ow, wh-what? What was that? What did I do- Hey! Where are you going? Wh-what are you doing?" Wheatley cried out, after having jumped up 5ft into the air, protectively covering his sides with his hands.

When Chell came back, he was cowering in the corner like a child, pouting sulkily and acting dramatically hurt. After a brief second of eye-contact, she dropped the turret and the gun in favour of covering up her mouth, and left the room. She snickered to herself for what to her felt like ages, but what must have only been a minute, before re-entering, where Wheatley was already congratulating her on her intelligence whilst dropping the turret into the scanner.

* * *

Wheatley could recall peering round the corner, watching her cheeks gradually flush crimson.

 _She could catch that turret, but not me. Charming._ He thought sourly, pressing the bones in his arm. _But at least she didn't laugh when I fell. At least she had the common decency to at sort of look concerned. Also, she helped me up. Helped me up right away. I guess that's the thing that matters.  
_

A foolish grin formed on his face without realising as he thought of her, and he idly spun himself to look back at the moon, and almost did a double-take.

Glimmering missile shaped objects were apparently flying out of moon, logos spray painted blockily on them, flying erratically through the inky depths before flashing and honing in on his location. Wheatley scrambled to get out of the way, trying desperately to swim away with his gangly limbs, but to no avail.

All of his systems were suspended upon both impact and realisation: GLaDOS's plan was to knock him completely out of space.


	3. Surprise

"...just like that, and then there was, basically, nothing, and now I guess that I'm here, which is good because _you're_ here, but everything hurts and I can't move, I mean it _really_ hurts, and I am really well and _truly_ sorry for inconveniencing you but can you - **ow** \- please STOP KICKING ME!"

Chell snorted in annoyance, and firmly addressed another sharp kick to his upper arm, before storming out, leaving the little crater that contained a disgruntled Wheatley. A jabbering puddle of misery splayed out in the dirt, that whimpered like a dog and understood nothing.

Wiping her hands on her faded jumpsuit, she grimaced at the grey and generally overcast sunrise, the sun itself only just peeping through.  
 **Suits a day like this. Bringing the bane of my existence back down from the skies.**

He pulled himself upwards ungracefully, looking down at his twisted and skinless legs, which seemed to have beared the brunt of the fall. Wheatley also stared at his hands, that were discoloured dark slate, which he thought must have had something to do with being forced through the atmosphere. Without blood, it wasn't a dreadful scene, and he adjusted all the bones and wires without emotion (or hopefully it seemed emotionless, as he tried his best not to cry out). Propping himself up with one arm, Wheatley looked back at Chell, who was analysing him from the rim of the pit. He gazed pitifully back.

She looked... different. Thinner. The outdoors had made her skin lose it's waxiness and become the colour of honey, but it was sore and scarlet at the bridge of her nose and shoulders, despite bleak Autumn approaching. Her brows made hard lines on her face, and her once spiky hair was loose, hanging limp as if in defeat. Her ruby lips were now dark wine and peeling. It wasn't Chell at all.

"Um, hello. Again. I didn't really stop to think of you earlier. Oh! Sorry. And earlier-earlier. You know, facility earlier. I was...thoughtless. But at least you're not in there now, I suppose." He squinted up into the light, attempting to read her facial expression whilst twisting himself around.

Nothing.

He staggered to his feet, stumbling out of his pit to meet her unflinching eyes with great difficulty and lack of coordination. They were cold, icy steel penetrating through all that made his being. Wheatley was tempted to take her hand by habit, but stopped mid action, as if with a single touch she would shatter, and each shard would hit him like swords. His optics just had to look upwards to meet hers, to make his arrival have some meaning. But he couldn't.

She lifted her chin fiercely, and shoved him back with her calloused hands so that he was a metre away. For once, he didn't know what to say. Unable to accept that what he had done could be deemed unforgivable.

"You...uh, look a bit cold. It is a bit nippy out, I'll admit." He stated bluntly, staring blankly at the goosebumps on her arms. Wheatley took off his singed lab coat in one swift movement, and wrapped it round her solid, unmoving body: draping it over her arms like a table cloth. A measly act for forgiveness in her eyes, a desperate bid to break the silence in his.

"You can, uh, keep that. Take it to that little house. If it is yours, I mean. Looks battered, but I bet its nice on the inside. I'm going to go for a walk." Wheatley attempted to memorise the features on the old, run-down building, but it was facing away from him.

"May be a while. So then I can, um, articulate stuff. And we can talk. Or, at least, I can talk. About, things. If you want. Hmm. Okay. Go Team." He added, in a more monotone voice than usual.

He made a timid little wave, and trudged off into the thin expanse of trees.

Chell too turned her back on him, although she had immediately begun to regret her actions.

 **Could an android cry?** She wondered.

* * *

"Ba dah dah dah dah, hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm...Cos there's no sense crying over every mistake, you just keep on trying 'til you run out of cake..."

As a matter of fact, androids can't cry. The closest one can get is a seemingly unwarranted suspension, which the android can be booted up from if the crisis situation has been 'solved'. In any case, Wheatley wasn't crying. And certainly didn't feel like doing so.

Once he felt as though he was far enough away, the spring in his step returned (although he did imminently fall over). His realisation that he had landed directly above Aperture made him happier still, as that meant he couldn't get too lost as long as his encoded navigation system brought him back. He could criticise GLaDOS of many things, but not of her exacting calculations. He swiveled his head round as he strolled, keeping an eye out for stuff that Chell would approve of.

"Flowers? Yeah, flowers are nice, everybody likes those. Or at least I do. Are there any? No, not really. Well, I guess there's brambles. Not exactly sure about her opinion on those. Mmm. I'll go ahead and get the- OW! Argh. Fine, even if she likes those, I can't get her them. Pointy. Sharp things are off the list..." He chatted contentedly to himself for the next 15 miles, thinking about many (impractical) ways he could win her back. As he did so, Wheatley unwittingly approached a large pewter grey warehouse, only realising he had done so when he walked smack into it whilst talking about how he wished there were some big sunflowers and lilacs to give her.

Rubbing his nose miserably, he took a couple of steps back. Aside from the moss creeping up the lower half of the walls and a splintered broken door, it was a solid building that looked resistant to most of the elements. He carefully examined the door, by kicking it in and testing how easy that was. As he did it with ease, and judged the stack of beans that he knocked over, he came to the conclusion that this was where Chell got all her food from, and entered the discarded warehouse.

"Right, time to buy some stuff. Hello? Hhheelllllooo?! Anybody? Hmm. When it said she was the last one, I thought it meant Living Test Subject, not Living Human on Earth. Oh well, this works out perfectly, as I don't _actually_ have any money! Brilliant! Time to just...grab things. Nice things, nice things...Cake ingredients, sweets, hot chocolates...not eggs, because they smell absolutely disgusting..." He lost himself in the darkness, a faint sapphire glow emanating from his torch.


End file.
